


Fragile Matters

by beekeepercain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Blood, Fluff, Gift Giving, Implied Attraction, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2580911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekeepercain/pseuds/beekeepercain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Certain gifts are given to speak what words cannot express.</p><p><b>Prompt:</b> "Let's imagine if Gadreel got it into his head to give Sam a present. What that is, or how he would give it, no idea. Gimme fluff, please."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Matters

* * *

 

Winter was on its way. The overcast sky was accompanied by a harsh, cold wind that ran down the back of Gadreel’s jacket and entered the warm space underneath. It curled around his throat like some mockery of a scarf and then left him shivering, but the car was here and at least the promise of an evening in the bunker was something he embraced wholeheartedly. He stepped in, thanked Dean with a nod of his head and settled on the backseat without a question; he knew whose the front seat was, even when no one was physically sitting there.  
The hunter let out a grunt of approval and started the car.

Not too long after, the road ended at the bunker’s hidden garage. Gadreel’s body had lost the chill from earlier as he now voiced a thank-you only to receive another grunt in turn and then spun around to head for the door. His fingertips slid over the engraved metal in his pocket as he moved up the stairs and down the corridors, one by one checking the usual haunts of Sam Winchester, finally locating him from his own bedroom. The sentry knocked on the door and tried to calm down - this wasn’t anything big, yet he felt like it was. He felt like he was doing more than protecting Sam, something much more intimate, trying the ice past the point where he felt they stood so securely, and it was a terrifying yet, somehow, an exciting feeling.

The Man of Letters pushed open his door with his shower-fresh hair fuzzy and the pale blue shirt he was wearing much too big for him: from all the mornings downstairs when Gadreel had seen the other head for his first cup of coffee, he recognised that as part of his night wear.

"I’m sorry if I come at a bad time," he heard himself speak with a lost smile.

Sam shook his head.  
"No, it’s fine. Come in."

Gadreel nodded and stepped over into the room. A new scent lingered inside, and as he sought out its source he found a small still lit candle from next to Sam’s empty cup of coffee. The scent - a mixture of spices, something sweet - seemed to stem from that candle. The bed was unmade and Sam sat back down upon it, yawning.  
"Before you think it," the younger huffed, pushing back his hair from where it once again had fallen over his face, "I wasn’t sleeping."  
His hand reached to pat a book next to him.  
"Reading."

"I will not keep you from it long," Gadreel noted, his heart suddenly feeling as if it resided within his throat, "I - have something for you. I hope it does not seem inappropriate."

"What?"

The sentry didn’t know what to clarify, so he said nothing but simply pushed his hand back down his pocket and enclosed what he’d brought with him within his palm.

"I - care for you," he said then, clumsily seeking words that would explain why he’d come up with this, even though nothing seemed to fit, "After all that’s happened, I sometimes fear that my care will not keep you safe. I know that you do not wish to be protected, but it seems my nature to worry; I’d feel safer if you accepted this. More confident that when you leave, you’ll be coming back soon."

Sam’s lips parted. He seemed to have no idea how to respond, perhaps even of what was going on in the first place. Gadreel smiled and shook his head.  
"Better that I do not keep you in the dark."

He brought forwards his hand and revealed the silver ring upon his palm from within his fingers: the engravings were clear upon the surface like waves in the design, never beginning, never ending in the shape of a circle around the ring on both sides.  
Sam glanced at him and then reached carefully for the ring as if asking for permission to pick it up.

"Looks - important," he managed to speak out.

"I came upon it on a task with Castiel," Gadreel explained, "I only now could pick it up again. I thought - the best place to keep it would be with you."

"What is it?"

"A ring," the angel let the obvious out with a huff, "with an ancient Enochian protective spell engraved upon it. It is a blessed relic. Perfectly safe to wear - it comes with no fine print, but protects you from malicious magic, dark witchcraft, demonic influence amongst other things."

"Like a shield?"

"Something like that. Powerful spells will be able to penetrate it, of course, it does not make you invulnerable, but it does lessen the effect and lesser spells may be deflected entirely. I thought it might be… useful."

Sam nodded. To Gadreel’s sudden and great relief, he slipped the ring over his right hand’s ring finger, where it seemed to fit near perfectly. The hunter raised his hand in front of him and looked at the ring before finally nodding, a smile on him.  
"Thanks. I’ll… keep it safe, I guess."

Gadreel nodded again with a smile on him as well.  
"One more thing," he said, this message the one he found the most important but also the hardest to speak.

"Yeah?"  
Sam’s expression was expecting, curious, and Gadreel couldn’t find from it the reservation he was used to. Sam trusted him - that meant more to him than he could put to words.

"An impure being, one tainted by darkness or evil, would not be able to bear an object with a protective spell this strong engraved to it. I thought it would - I thought that might be something you…"  
He couldn’t say it. There was no way to speak it. Especially not when he could see the tears suddenly cover Sam’s eyes, the shock and relief that washed upon his features. Sam knew what he’d meant. He could pass the clumsy words now.  
"If there comes a time," he started again instead, "that may be information you have use for."


End file.
